H
e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s
b e r g
N
a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i
v e s E d i t i o n
MARC OLMSTED
Noble Flying
Lizard
Watching Rodan monster
movie called Ray-don in Japanese, high school
friend
Richard's laser disk no subtitles
Now I'm nearly 50, he's 52
Back from the hospital where my mother called me
Jack called Richard Jack,
we were morphing into an old business
partner of my dead father the hospital
morphed into her condo
"let's go into the front room" she said, earlier asking
my sister "have you ever had a cadaver
inserted in you?" she meant catheter
or maybe not
-
next day she said "Hello Marc-o" lucid
again, a relief I went to the
tattoo parlor in
Venice, I wanted a red samurai crest, remembering my
mother's ass, flank,
her fur where the catheter was indeed inserted,
flashing all this as
she flipped in the bed, how young for 83 in those
brief flashes the
Asian girly pictures that decorated Richard's
computer room
flickering recent memory, her legs just as hairless,
Native American blood (though elbow skin
waxy, toes flaking)
first time I saw
that patch I was afraid of it a tarantula later seen through night
gown sexy & evil now strangely charming
even with yellow urine tube same
where I came though
a different hole same hospital where Richard was born
though I was born
3000 miles from her from here the island called Long in
New York
I wanted a warrior's tattoo, soon an orphan soon
alone but Tabu Tattoo
couldn't see me for an
hour and a half — I had a plane to catch - Richard's
eyes said "get it when you come back for
the funeral" — "What a thought!" I
told him, but it was a good idea
Now into the dusk sky I am Ray-don the noble
flying monster orange-lit
ocean sunlight
winking on car roofs below I thought were beach bonfires
I'll probably never see her again my lama will
do a ceremony at her death but
at least she said "Marc-o" and
she held up her hand & said "Peace"
the rainbow curtain around her bed peeled
back, rainbow body waiting
8/24/03 Los Angeles
[Originally
published in NHS 2004, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs04/Marc_Olmsted.html.]